


Uncommon Chemistry (The Delayed Reaction remix)

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Breaking Bad, Carrie - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, F/M, Telekinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: Jesse asks his awkward classmate to prom.





	Uncommon Chemistry (The Delayed Reaction remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SegaBarrett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Night to Remember](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495098) by [SegaBarrett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett). 



Carrie White's mom was just a rumor to Jesse, but he found himself wondering if maybe Carrie had something in common. Jesse's parents stopped seeing him when they looked in his direction a long time ago, and after the whole tampon thing that happened in the girls' locker room, Jesse gussed that that's what had happened to Carrie, too, that her mom stopped looking at her, so she didn't see Carrie growing and changing.

Carrie has changed, too. Jesse never knew her well--they weren't in the same classes, like, ever--but he remembered her, how she used to be. She was still scared and hesitant, but she'd also grown taller and prettier and curvy. As pretty as most of the girls who made fun of her. Maybe a little prettier than some of them, because she wasn’t arrogant about it. Because she was shy.

He kept thinking she deserved better, and maybe he was just thinking about himself, like an asshole--his parents would say that, anyway--but he decides he should just _talk_ to her. Just say hi, see if thed have anything in common beyond the kind of shitty parents who don't actually hit or hurt you but can make you feel like less than dirt without even blinking.

They might have something in common.

Mr. White called him out for daydreaming in Chemistry, and it's not like he's wrong. Jesse took it as an insult anyway, rolls his eyes, barely escapes getting thrown out of class. But it was what made him choose. _What the hell, I’ll talk to her. Not like I’ve got much popularity to lose._

 

Carrie had always tried not to think about boys. Boys were trouble. She had enough of that at home, without adding them to the mix. But she was polite--you had to be polite, it wasn't like she was a great beauty or a spiritual inspiration or any of the other things that she felt like she ought to be.

So when Jesse--what was his last name? Pinkham? Pinkman?--came to talk to her, she talked back. Politely. That was all.

He had light-colored eyes, and it really looked like he was looking at _her_ when he talked to her, not her hairline or her--her chest.

She'd talked with the boys in her class when she was younger, but her mother hadn't approved then, and it had only gotten worse. Boys made her nervous, and she always half-heard her mother's voice in her head, telling her that they couldn't be trusted, that they only wanted _one thing_ and she, Carrie White, couldn't give that to anyone, that she had to stay pure. 

Pure as, apparently, her mother hadn't been.

The nurse said it happened to everyone, though, the blood. It wasn't the first time that someone at school had contradicted Mom and probably wouldn't be the last, but this one felt more...important.

Maybe it was just because Carrie was getting older. Or because she was getting angrier.

She didn't really want to be angry, but it was _easy._ Comforting. It felt good to feel it build, like banking a fire for a long winter night. Something strong and powerful that she could call on when she wanted to.

She wasn't sure if Jesse makes the fire better or worse.

She wasn’t sure she cared any more.

 

Carrie talked with him more often. One day she came down under the bleachers when he and Badger were smoking up, and he gave her a toke on his joint.

It made her giggly, but she said it makes her head ache too, so he didn’t ask her to try it again. She listened to him complain about his parents, his teachers. Carrie had good grades, except for participation. He told her she should speak up more often. She told him he should do his homework.

It was...nice. It was actually nice.

“I know it’s kind of dumb,” he saod, one afternoon before the late bus leaves, “but do you, like, wanna go to prom?”

She looked at him like he’d just lost his mind. “Prom?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, you could do a duct tape dress or something, you wouldn’t have to do anything fancy.”

“Okay,” she said, and smiled. “I’ll...yeah.” 

 

Carrie thought about duct tape, but she'd decided on making her own dress instead, out of peach satin she found on sale at JoAnn's. Mrs. Nelson let her use the FACS room and the sewing machine, so her mother wouldn't know, wouldn't--

Mom had found out, of course.

Mom always did.

Mom was still breathing, ragged, pained. Carrie could feel her pulse. She felt calm, calmer than she had in a long, long time. She didn't feel sorry. Maybe she should have.

"God knows," Mom said. "He knows what you did. He'll--"

Carrie took the money out of her mother's purse, the checkbook, the shoebox of emergency money hidden under the bed. Five hundred and thirty dollars, not counting what she could get out of the checking account. Two hundred, maybe? She'd cashed checks for her mother before. She'd try it; the worst thing they could say was no.

"God will judge you," Mom said, and she was trying to shout, but her voice was weakening.

"I think you should save your strength," Carrie said. "That...that was a bad accident, Mom. You might not survive if you don't rest."

The house shuddered behind her as she walked out.

 

She'd asked Jesse not to meet her at her house, which, yeah, everybody knew about Carrie White's mom. He was texting Skinny Pete in the Pollos Hermanos parking lot when she came up to his car. Shit. She looked beautiful; tall and curvy and soft. "Hey," he said.

She looked nervous. "Hi." 

He went to open the car door for her, but she beat him to it, walking over to the door herself and sliding in. She had her bag with her, the bag she carried all the time at school. It wasn't what most of the girls would have done; they got little matching purses, or tiny beaded bags to dangle from their wrists. He liked that she'd kept her normal bag, that her shoes were just white leather, nothing dyed to match or any crap like that. "So I thought maybe we'd go to Sal's. It's not...like, fancy fancy but the food's pretty good, and--"

She swallowed. "Jesse?"

"Hey." He took her hand, and she started a little at the touch, but she let him. "What's wrong?"

"It's just--" She sighed. "Do we...do we have to do this?"

"What, Sal's? I didn't get reservations or anything--"

"The prom," she said. "Maybe--could we just go?"

"You mean, like--like go where?"

"Just--go." She looked at him. "I--Jesse, I hate it here. You hate it here. Maybe...could we just drive for a while? Just--out of town? Somewhere--anywhere?"

"Yeah," he said. "We could--we could do that." She looked so... _wrong._ Haunted. Maybe she'd had a fight with her mom. "Which way?"

"South," she said. "I mean...if you want to. If--"

"Nah," he said. "You're right. Prom sucks. You have cash?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Okay," he said. He could do this. Take her shitty night and make it better. Make it good. "Let's...let's see where the night leads us, huh?"

She leaned over, across the console, and kissed his cheek, making everything inside him warm. "Thank you," he said.

"Hey," he said. "Let's make this a night to remember, huh?"

She was still holding his hand as they pulled out of the parking lot.


End file.
